D-Day

by Bryan Perrett

Published 5 May 2016
It's 1944 when Lieutenant Andy Pope takes part in the D-Day landings,
crossing the English Channel to the beaches of Normandy. Ordered
to cut off the Germans' line of retreat, Andy's company comes
under sustained attack until, as the only unwounded officer left,
Andy finds himself in command and fighting for survival...

U-boat Hunter

by Bryan Perrett

Published 19 September 2005
Sixteen-year-old Peter Rogers is training to be a Royal Navy officer
in 1939 when he hears that his father's ship has been torpedoed
off the coast of Ireland. The survivors, including his father,
have been captured by a German U-boat crew and treated cruelly -
some of them are shot dead. In 1940 Peter joins an escort fleet
in the North Atlantic where British convoys are suffering horrific
losses from enemy U-boats. We share in the trials and tribulations
of his duties, including the constant tension, the bitter cold,
mountainous seas - and the moment when he and his father's captor
come face to face...

My Story D Day

by Bryan Perrett

Published 1 September 2004
It's 1944 when Lieutenant Andy Pope takes part in the D-Day landings, crossing the English Channel to the beaches of Normandy. Ordered to cut off the Germans' line of retreat, Andy's company comes under sustained attack until, as the only unwounded officer left, Andy finds himself in command and fighting for survival...

Waterloo

by Bryan Perrett

Published 18 July 2003
June 1815 It was about a quarter past eleven when the great battery of guns across the valley belched smoke. A second later the sound of their discharge reached me like a roll of thunder. There was a whooshing, ripping noise as the balls came skipping over the ridge. The infantry had already been told to lie down and we did likewise, so most of the enemy fire passed overhead. However, sometimes a ball smashed into the prone ranks.smashing bodies to pulp. It was the horrible screams that nearly broke my nerve. I wanted to run and hide but suddenly my legs were like jelly.

Trafalgar

by Bryan Perrett

Published 19 April 2002
The yards came round, spilling the wind from the sails, and Norse man slowed to a standstill just out of range of the enemy's guns wallowing a little in the swell. More and more of the ships in Lord Nelson's column were coming up in turn to add the weight of their gunfire to the fray. Beyond, I could see the ships of Admiral Collingwood's column similarly engaged. It was a tremendous spectacle that almost made me forget the task I had been given. I looked towards the front of the enemy line and, sure enough, five of their ships were turning slowly and heading back towards the fighting...

Crimea

by Bryan Perrett

Published 20 September 2002
September 1854 It seemed like an age, lying there waiting for the order to continue our advance. All the while, from the heights beyond the river the Russian artillery fired upon us and from the front we heard the crackle of musket fire as our skirmishers pushed theirs back. Cannonballs passed over our heads with a sound not unlike tearing cloth, and struck the ground in front of us, throwing up earth. At first I was not afraid, for the men talked and laughed among them selves, even when they were showered with soil. Then we began to suffer our first losses...